


Message Belatedly Recieved

by Miraculous_Max (Maximilian_Alexander)



Series: Marry That Girl [8]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Knows About Marinette's Crush, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has a Crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chat Noir Is a Little Shit, Concerned Tikki, Domestic Fantasy, Dorks in Love, Embarrassed Marinette Dupain-Cheng, F/M, Fantasizing, Fluff, Happy Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Is a Mess, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 03:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18932179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maximilian_Alexander/pseuds/Miraculous_Max
Summary: She berates herself rather harshly for making such an error. She’s not one to forget something so important so easily, especially for that length of time. At the very least, even if she didn’t have the time to add anything, she should have thought or remembered it at least once!With a look of fierce determination, Marinette draws out her mighty pencil from her desk drawer, and flips the forbidden sketchbook wide open.And then she nearly has a stroke.





	Message Belatedly Recieved

It’s probably been months since Marinette had opened up her most treasured (non-magical) possession. Which truly is a crime, but it couldn’t have been helped. Things have been particularly busy, ever since Alya had found and returned her lost sketchbook all that time ago. 

Hawkmoth had went on a rampage for a solid month, specifically targeting Chat Noir, and in that time, hadn’t even demanded the Ladybug or Black Cat Miraculous. In fact, all of his attacks seemed angry, overly violent, and uncoordinated. Marinette worries that their nemesis may very well be going off the deep end, and had been taken hold of by a bout of insanity. 

There was also the matter of Adrien. He had taken special interest in frying her internal circuitry, and she can’t for the life of her figure out _why_. Not that she was complaining, of course, but… 

No, yeah, she’s _definitely_ complaining.

Having the object of her affections flirting with her every day should have been a dream come true for her, but in actuality, it’s a total _**nightmare**_. She hasn’t been able to get a coherent sentence out around him for ages, which is a **_huge_** step backwards on all the progress she made! She’s been coming home feeling absolutely mortified almost every single day, and at this point, she just _can’t_ handle it anymore.

But, for the past three days, Adrien has not been in school, giving her time to finally get over all her embarrassment, think hard about his recent behaviour, and _finally_ , jump, dance, squeal, and gush in absolute _joy_ over the development.

Which ultimately led her to remembering the **forbidden** sketchbook.

 _How_ could she have possibly forgotten about it?!

She berates herself rather harshly for making such an error. She’s not one to forget something so important so easily, _especially_ for that length of time. At the very least, even if she didn’t have the time to add anything, she should have thought or remembered it at least once!

There’s no use dwelling on that, however. Now that she actually has the free time, there’s no question on what she’s going to use it for.

With a look of fierce determination, Marinette draws out her mighty pencil from her desk drawer, and flips the forbidden sketchbook wide open.

And then she nearly has a stroke. 

There’s a sticky note in it, peeking out ever so slightly behind pages that cover over it.

Alya had promised that she hadn’t look in it, and that she never would, but somehow, there was a sticky note in it, _and she sure as hell wasn’t the person to put it there_. 

Hand shaking, she lets her pencil clatter to the desk, and hastily flips through the pages. She lands on the last of the occupational pages, where she had drawn Adrien in his pajamas, cuddled up with their three possible future children, the top of the page labelled **Stay-At-Home Dad**.

_This one’s my favourite! :D_

Her heart stutters to a stop. She recognises that handwriting.

As soon as realisation sets in, her heart restarts, then beats ten times faster.

Abruptly, she stands up, her chair forcefully pushed to roll across the room and slam into her bedroom wall. She flips to the first page, then lets a strangled noise emit from her throat.

There’s another sticky note.

_Your designs are awesome! I can’t wait to see this when the time comes! ;)_

Beside the sticky note is her in her wedding dress. Her face goes bright red as she lets out a whimper.

“Marinette?”

Tikki flits out from her corner, cookie crumbs on her cheeks, looking at her current Ladybug in concern. The expression on Marinette’s face isn’t anything new, especially recently in the wake of Adrien’s advances, but it’s certainly strange to be seeing it on her within the confines of her bedroom. 

“Are you alright?”

Unable to gain control of her mouth fast enough, Marinette nods almost violently, snatching the **forbidden** sketchbook and pressing it flush against her chest. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t look,” Tikki says in slight amusement. “Well, if you say you’re alright, I believe you. But if you need anything, just ask, alright? Or… snap your fingers, if you go nonverbal.”

At Marinette’s agreeing nod, Tikki goes back to her corner to consume more cookies.

With her kwami no longer inquiring, Marinette takes in a few deep breaths, willing herself to calm down enough so that her face is no longer a furnace.

“I’m gonna– balcony!“ Marinette cringes, but knows that Tikki’s familiar enough with her babble to know what she’s trying to say.

“Alright! Be careful though, it’s chilly!”

“Right, yeah!”

A minute or three later, Marinette is bundled up in one of her spare blankets like a burrito, resting against the lounge chair on her balcony. The cold air stings her cheeks, and it’s exactly what she needs to gather up the will to continue.

She opens the sketchbook up again, and flips to the next page, featuring Adrien in his wedding suit.

_I like how I look here. I look happy and loved._

_I want that._

She closes her eyes and simply breathes, feeling tears gathering up behind her eyelids, chest feeling full and warm despite the cool air. She takes a moment to herself before she continues on, flipping pages until she gets to the next sticky note.

_I’d make a pretty handsome professor, wouldn’t I?_

She lets out a surprised laugh. She was going for the dorky, borderline conspiracy theorist look, with unkempt hair, a wide grin, and a tacky tie, having him gesturing animatedly towards a chalkboard in front of a class.

Yeah. He’d be a pretty handsome professor.

She continues.

_Hey, you give me too much credit. I love fencing, but am I really gold-medalist material?_

_Rugby? As a career? And ruin this pretty face? My father would have a coronary._

_Okay, your idea of being a model looks so much more fun than my father’s idea. Yes please._

_Baker? I can’t bake. I’d love to learn, though. I wouldn’t mind continuing the family business. Think your dad would teach me?_

_You know, I’ve never thought about being in a band full-time. I love that idea._

_Ice dancing? Okay, I won’t deny I was interested in those lessons, but I think I’m too old to start a full-time career out of it at this point. Or was that figure skating?_

She keeps flipping until she finally lands back onto the Stay-At-Home Dad page, smiling so widely it’s almost painful. 

Adrien was giving her input on their shared future. He made no comments about how it isn’t guaranteed, or that he didn’t like her like that, or that he was upset with her, or that he liked someone else. No, instead he went along with it, seemingly happy with this find, and narrowing down the options for their future paths. 

But, she can’t deny that the occupational pages and the wedding pages weren’t the most important ones. It’s what came _after_ that truly mattered. And she can see the outline of the next sticky note against the page, so she knows he’s seen it.

Taking in a deep breath, she flips the page.

Hugo Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

Louis Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

Emilie “Emma” Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

_They’re beautiful._

_You’re beautiful._

_Thank you._

The tears that had been threatening to spill finally break free, rolling down her cheeks, and she smiles so wide she’s almost embarrassed, reaching a hand up to block the view of her grin.

“What do you got there, Marinette?”

She yelps and topples off the lounge chair, blanket slipping halfway down to her waist. Her head whacks painfully against the flooring, since her hands are too busy protecting the **forbidden** sketchbook to break her fall.

Chat Noir winces and helps the poor civilian up and back into her seat, apologising for startling her.

“It’s nothing, Chat Noir,” Marinette eventually responds, not too surprised to see him on her balcony. He’s been visiting more and more frequently lately, which is just another thing to add to the list of time-consuming distractions that’s kept her _much_ too busy to even think about the **forbidden** sketchbook. 

Honestly. How dare that cat be part of the reason that led her to committing such a crime.

“You’re not the type to cry over nothing,” Chat Noir says simply, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“It’s not like they’re sad tears.”

“Happy ones, then?”

Her eyes dart away, cheeks going pink. Chat’s expression becomes devious.

“Of a _boy_ , purrhaps?”

“ _That_ is none of your business.”

“ _Au contraire, mademoiselle!_ You have no idea just how much it _is_ my business! But, since I am your absolute _best_ guy friend ever, I promise not to push any more. Isn’t that noble of me?”

Marinette breathes out a relieved— and slightly amused— sigh, shooting her companion a grateful look. She looks down at the sketchbook, inspecting it to make sure it wasn’t damaged in the fall, then shuts it and places it on her lap. 

Unnoticed to her, Chat Noir’s eyes finally make contact with the object of her happiness, and his smile goes tender and soft. 

_So, she’s finally noticed._

“It’s getting a little cold out here, don’t you think? Let’s go inside. Besides, last _week_ you promised me we’d have an anime marathon. It’s Friday now and I’m getting _antsy!_ ”

Marinette laughs and shakes her head, kicking her blanket off her legs so she can stand up.

“Sure thing, _minou_. You know my desktop and Netflix password, I’ll go downstairs and sneak us some snacks.”

She flicks his bell.

“Be good.”

And with that, she descends into her bedroom and down the trap door, leaving a stunned superhero in her wake. 

 _Huh,_ Chat thinks, heart thudding rapidly against his ribcage. _Would it be a rational response to move our marriage date up a couple years? Eighteen isn’t_ too _young, right? Right._

To the surprise of no one, he thinks that with full sincerity.

To the surprise of everyone but Adrien, she would say yes. 

… But that’s a story for another time.


End file.
